


My Body, My Heart

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Gift, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 14:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10467525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: [Gift piece] Elizabeth and Jacob Frye try to make ends meet with their 8 children in the dreary town of London.





	

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}
> 
> Jacob is roughly 29 in this story, I want to say, and Elizabeth is 32. The children and their ages are below:
> 
> Davis Frye (oldest) 14 y/o (son to Elizabeth but birth father is unknown)  
> Amelia Frye – 9 y/o  
> Evelyn Frye – 8 y/o  
> Carter Frye – 7 y/o  
> (Twin) Cecily Frye – 6 y/o  
> (Twin) Callum Frye – 6 y/o  
> Ella Frye – 4 y/o  
> Ethan Frye (youngest) 1 y/o
> 
> {This is a birthday gift to the lovely mother-dove {on Tumblr}. Thank you for being so delightful, honey, and I hope your birthday is a special one~! Much love to you!}
> 
> Copyright: Jacob Frye: Ubisoft  
> Elizabeth (Dawson) Frye and Davis: mother-dove  
> Writing and other mentioned children (though named by mother-dove): Oreana
> 
> As a note: I do NOT accept these stories as requests. I do accept them as commission types that you are free to ask about!

There is no rest for the wicked, as they say, and perhaps that was more than true in Jacob Frye’s case. He spent most of his days wrestling with Templars and Blighters that still roamed the streets of London well after the fall of Starrick and then to come home to eight hungry children and a wife who tried ever so desperately to keep them fed and entertained. 

A woman that he had married so many years ago and was a bit older than him by only a few years as well as a retired Assassin—formally known as Elizabeth Dawson though taking Jacob’s last name when he proposed to her. Honestly, with how gentle and upbeat she seemed, Jacob found it hard to believe at times that she ever was an Assassin, but it appeared Elizabeth had that sort of personality that remained unaffected by the Creed’s bloody grasp. 

Jacob envied her for that. Hell, that poor woman had to endure his bad drinking habits when he fell into ruts with his targets, and it seemed, for awhile, she was taking care of nine children and not eight. Closing his hazel eyes at the memory as he remained in a Rook carriage for now to find his way home without much hassle and without waste of energy he would need when tending to his children and wife for the remainder of the evening, Jacob let the rocking of the stagecoach sooth him like some unsung lullaby before finding the driver halting the horse to announce that they had arrived at their destination. Taking his leave, he waved to the Rook with a lopsided smirk, which easily hinted Jacob’s weariness from the day’s work, and then made his way towards the one story home that awaited him there in the City of London. 

The sun was setting and soon chased away into darkness, but in the dim lighting of that home, Jacob could see one of the younger ones at the window. While merely a silhouette, the man smiled all the same as he watched them disappear behind the curtains and then, the front door opened, allowing the gentle light to pour over the old steps and touch upon Jacob’s features as he slowly ascended the small staircase near the porch. 

The little girl with strawberry blond hair stood there with a crooked smile that seemed to nearly mirror Jacob’s. Her eyes, a precious blue like her mother’s, were wide with delight, and the eight-year-old named Evelyn ran towards her father upon her dainty hand releasing the doorknob. “Daddy!” she cried out with excitement, catching the Assassin by surprise as her weight was pushed upon him with all her might in that one hug she granted him. 

Jacob ‘oofed’ at her growing strength, moving his arms about her small and precious body to take into his embrace as he continued onward to the front door. “And what exactly are you doing out here, Evie?” Jacob asked, a curious raise of his brow to follow his question as he shut the door behind him with his foot. “I thought you would be in the kitchen helping your mum with dinner?” 

While the oldest was Davis at fourteen years of age, the little ones were still taught a few things in regards to working about the house to aid their mother as there were far too many of them compared to just Elizabeth.

“I was helping mummy; I swear it,” Evelyn promised, her small hands curled upon her father’s clothing to show she meant her words. “I was watching over sick Ella while she was cooking dinner.” 

Jacob’s lips thinned at that bit of news. Ella, the second youngest of the group of children, had fallen to sickness sometime ago. Jacob prayed it was nothing and that it would sort itself out in no time with a bit of hot soup here and there as he was struggling to keep things going as it was financially. The idea of too many doctor visits with little to show for it meant the risk of less food on the table. “Ella is still sick, is she?” All the same, his daughter was unwell, and that worried him given the fact children died of diseases all the time. 

As Evelyn found her feet upon wiggling out of her father’s arms, she grabbed at Jacob’s hand to guide him to the room where her sister slept while her mother and siblings were busy elsewhere. She wasn’t sure if she should say Ella got worse…maybe her father would have a better understanding and view than she would. 

Being brought to the room they had cleared out for Ella to have to herself given the sudden fever she had come down with as the boys usually had their room and the girls had their own, Jacob noticed the small child resting there in the candlelit room he usually kept as a study for himself. She was bundled tightly in the covers upon his cot, which appeared freshly cleaned, and her soft-brown hair framed her face from where she rested upon her back. The way she breathed sounded as though she were in pain, though the four-year-old’s face did that well enough on its own to distinguish how much the body aches hurt even as she was slumbering. 

Jacob ignored the small, wooden chair beside the makeshift bed that Evelyn was obviously sitting within to watch her sister and sat upon the bedside instead. He was scared to wake Ella, but he had to know how she was, and it was there his cold hand touched upon his daughter’s cheek to feel of the fever that had reddened her complexion. 

Ella felt the chill, and it was welcomed to the small one, but it also roused her, and it was there Jacob saw himself looking upon her hazel eyes when they slowly opened. 

He hoped his smile would sooth her as he whispered to her in greeting, “Hey, Ella-Bella.” 

The sight and gentle words of her father did little to calm the small one as her eyes watered over and her lip trembled. Crying with what energy she could manage, Ella moved her small arms from the covers and tried her best to reach out to her father as she felt miserable. She felt constantly hot and her body ached just as horribly. 

Seeing such a heart wrenching sight, Jacob moved his embrace about Ella’s body and brought her close to his chest as he attempted to sooth her. Her sobs were quiet to express the weakness that had overtaken her, and it broke the Assassin’s heart that his child was so ill and there was little he could do about it. “It’s going to be alright, princess,” Jacob spoke softly, not aware that a few of the other children had gathered at the door for the moment. 

With everyone gathering at the entrance to the study, Elizabeth made her way towards them with worry weighing her heart and quickening her pacing down the hall. Spying that her husband was home, she sighed with some relief, motioning to the children that were merely watching there as though it were some spectacle to behold with Ella so sick. “Come on now, my dears,” she spoke quietly, outstretching her arm to even Evelyn to try and usher her away. “Dinner is about ready. Let’s get in the kitchen, shall we?” 

Evelyn was reluctant to leave. She had been spending hours with her sister, and even if her father was home, she felt it was still her responsibility to stay. 

“You too, Evelyn,” Elizabeth reminded her daughter, waving a bit more vigorously till her child hurried past Elizabeth at her command. 

With the children gone from sight, Jacob turned to his wife as he kept Ella in his arms. “She’s gotten worse, hasn’t she?” His words vibrated within his chest and hummed into Ella’s ear, causing the small child some form of comfort as her sobbing did its best to lessen. 

“It is good to see you too, sweetheart,” Elizabeth responded to try and lighten the mood, but her words sounded as though her heart had been plunged with a sword of despair, causing them to quiver past her lips. 

Jacob’s smile was faint at her humorous remark and merely flickered as a sort of ‘thanks for that’ comment. “Answer me, Lizzie…” His words were more pleading than demanding as he watched his wife enter the room further. 

Sighing, Elizabeth wrung her hands together as she wasn’t sure how to really answer this. Of course she was…Ella was crying all day, and the only reason she finally got any rest was because she sobbed herself into exhaustion. But the news hardly got better from there, and that was what was causing her reluctance to speak. “She is,” Elizabeth finally departed with, looking away from Jacob worryingly though her feet carried her to his side. “The doctor thinks it is scarlet fever—.” 

“You sent for the doctor without consulting me?” Jacob asked in a mixture of worry and anger as their funds were low. 

“Jacob,” Elizabeth began as a means to plead, her eyes closed and her teeth chewed upon her lower lip as if to gather what strength she could to stay calm in the discussion, “I had to.” Elizabeth’s face relaxed into a worrisome look as she went on, “Ella is suffering, and I couldn’t bear to watch the poor dear suffer any longer.” Their words remained hushed so as not to cause their daughter discomfort, but to also not arouse concern in their children. 

What was done was already done, and Jacob merely nodded at the severity of the illness. “Would explain the rashes on her as of late,” he murmured, putting the symptoms together. “What did the doctor suggest? Did he give you anything?” 

Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, but again, she stalled. Blue eyes wandering away from Jacob’s, her fingers went to her apron as she thought of the best way to put things. “We didn’t have the money for it…” Elizabeth spoke the confession so quietly it was nearly difficult for Jacob to hear. 

“What did he suggest?” Jacob asked again, rocking Ella in his arms as he could hear her starting to tear up again. 

“Bloodletting,” Elizabeth answered. 

Jacob flinched, fearing that would be the answer as bloodletting was the best way for doctors to clean out dirty blood. “Leeches.” The mere thought of having such things on his small child made his embrace tighten protectively. “No tonic of any sort?” 

“The tonic would be further expensive, even if the best means to treat her.” Elizabeth’s courage and strength was starting to falter, and her lower lip trembled at having to hear Ella crying again. The sobs were so pathetic in terms of sound. A healthy child would be able to cry louder than that, but Ella had lost all her strength, and it was starting to show. “I am so tired of seeing her suffer, Jacob.” Elizabeth’s words shook violently from the sorrow that had a tight hold upon them. “Even just that doctor visit near left me with merely a shilling…Jacob, I cannot even afford to buy her something that may ease her pain!” The distraught woman brought her palms to her face to try and hide her shame. She was supposed to be able to provide for her children…what went wrong? 

Taking to his feet, Jacob moved to hug his wife supportively while a kiss upon her cheek did its best to stop her tears from marking her features when he managed to move away her hands. “We’ll care to her as we always have for now: warm bath every day and night, clean sheets and clothes, some milk, and a bit of soup to possibly chase this fever out of her body.” 

To still her lip, Elizabeth bit upon it and did her best to find light in her husband’s words. “She has not seen you all day,” Elizabeth said with a weak smile, trying to continue to bring light into the darkness. “Perhaps it is best you feed her dinner tonight.” 

“What of the others?” Jacob asked as he didn’t wish of them to be nearby and get sick as well; especially not Ethan, their one-year-old son who was probably the most susceptible to the disease. 

“You can read to them tonight before bed,” his wife answered, her palm resting upon his cheek to caress his rugged features. “For now, I want you to be with Ella, and I will handle the rest.” 

Her lips returning the kiss upon the cheek, Elizabeth took her leave for the moment to fetch the vegetable soup she made while her mind worked tirelessly for an answer to their money problems. She cringed at the thought of what she had to do… There was only one job that would truly pay well, and she would be her own boss, but she couldn’t discuss the thought with Jacob. Knowing him, he would talk her out of it…talk her out of becoming a prostitute. 

Moments later, Elizabeth had come back to give Jacob the soup and glass of milk for him and Ella. Again, she thanked him for everything he was doing for her and left the two alone for the time being to make sure the others were properly fed and cared for. 

Jacob noticed the portions were small, and because of that and with how sick Ella was, he combined the two bowls of soup into one and worked on trying to feed his ill daughter, ignoring his own hunger for now. While the young one was hungry, Ella seemed to decline anything that would cause her to be hotter. After having one bite of the soup, she almost refused more until Jacob blew on it enough to make the warm meal be passable for the child. 

“This will not do much for you, sweetheart, if you keep making daddy blow on it till it’s cold,” he warned his daughter. “You need to eat it while it is hot.” 

“But it’s too hot,” she whimpered, moving her mouth away from another helping when she saw how warm it was by the steam alone. “I’m already hot…and my body hurts…” 

Hearing her somber plea, Jacob sighed defeat through his nostrils before putting the meal off to the side on the nearby nightstand. Grabbing at the glass of milk, he aided Ella into sitting upright before getting her to drink that at the very least. “Sometimes the most mad sounding cures can do wonders for you, princess,” Jacob reminded her with a chuckle. “Kind of how your fairy tales are, I would say.” Moving the covers about her body, he knew he would have to bathe her soon before she slept. “Like how a kiss can transform a beast into a prince or wake a princess from her eternal slumber.” 

“Sometimes kisses make it better,” Ella reminded her father, wiping her teary face with her hand lazily. 

Smiling at such an innocent answer, Jacob nodded with hesitation as he wished it were indeed as simple as that. “Sometimes they do.” As if engrossed in that thought, Jacob moved forward to kiss the balmy forehead of his child with a curious raise of his brow. “Did that work? Do you feel better?” 

Ella smiled a smile that felt Jacob had gone months without seeing. Even if it was soon replaced with that pain riddled frown, Jacob was glad he got to see it for a moment. “A little,” his daughter responded as she tried to continue to eat the dinner she was given that evening by her father. 

 

 

When Jacob finally got Ella to settle down for sleep and read and tucked the others into bed, the Assassin took down the hall to his own bedroom with a stretch to pop his bones into place and relax his muscles. Upon passing by his study, he made sure the door was at least cracked in case he or Elizabeth had to get up in the middle of the night to tend to Ella. As he had taken care in moving the door to be sure it was wide enough to let sound carry, he peeked inside to be sure she was sleeping with the candle he carried. 

A relaxed smile spread across his features as Ella didn’t stir before moving onward to the bedroom at the back of the corridor. Hand protecting the precious flame, he made sure that the light remained untouched by rogue winds about the home till he was there by his wife’s side. Elizabeth was removing her blue gown though struggling afterward to get the corset undone. 

“Allow me,” Jacob insisted, putting the candle down and off to the side before working on the laces to loosen and free her from the article of clothing she took no pride in wearing. 

“Ah, I can breathe,” said Elizabeth teasingly, keeping what clothing she had upon her to conceal her privacy regardless of the fact that it was her husband who undressed her. 

“You hide as if you are ashamed,” Jacob smirked, trying to pull the fabric, which now hung loosely upon her, as if to de-robe her further. 

But Elizabeth pulled away with a sweet yet knowing smile of now was possibly not the best time for it. Her ruffled clothing swept across the floor, making her appear as though she were gliding as her feet could barely be seen unless she kicked her heels up in her walk. Hands upon the wooden support of the bed, Jacob watched as she rested against it while eyeing her lover with a teasing smirk of her own. “I promised you ‘no more’ after the eighth one,” she chuckled. 

Jacob moved with her, soon his hands mirroring hers as it gave him an excuse to touch her fingertips and move in to kiss upon her lips to savor the warmth of her breath and let that be what comforted his own aching heart. “Davis isn’t by birth mine, so you’ve only had seven of my kids, truthfully.” As he continued to work his way through the loophole he found, Jacob’s fingers played upon her exposed shoulder, hoping to get his wife to submit to him. 

Elizabeth moved forwards, lips pursed in a teasing way as her eyes lidded with her own form of mischief. “I dare not spread my legs again for you right now, love,” she chuckled, stealing a kiss from his lips. “Regardless of how badly I wish to fall asleep in your arms with nothing but your skin upon my own.” 

Again, the thought of intercourse caused Elizabeth’s heart to beat wildly in regards to the thought of taking up prostitution. She knew she couldn’t tell Jacob. If she did, he would forbid it outright. While men never cared if their wives took upon such a job, as it was a well paying job for them, Elizabeth was considered too old to be placed in any brothel, and she would have to work the streets…alone. She would be mistreated and with nothing but her own home to return to, the bruises would probably become obvious as well as the scent of other men. 

But what was she to do? Go back to being an Assassin? Even that was unwise as all her children would be in the care of a nanny, and Elizabeth couldn’t handle the thought of being unable to raise them as her own. Even Jacob, being a Master Assassin, had little to show in terms of earnings. 

Everything was just so expensive, and the number of children she bore didn’t help with that much. 

“Lizzie?” Jacob beckoned, causing Elizabeth to snap from her thoughts. 

She turned and noticed the concerned frown that weighed upon Jacob’s lips. “Forgive me,” she apologized. “My mind appears to have run away with me.” 

“Back to Ella, I presume?” Jacob asked, his touch more tender and soothing than a means to be lewd and sensual as it trailed from her shoulder, to her neck and then to her cheek. “Listen to me, Lizzie…we will make sure she is okay.” 

“She needs the treatment, Jacob,” Elizabeth insisted, the mood in the room instantly darkening again at the threat of them losing their child. “We don’t have the money, and it is so unfair…! That child didn’t deserve this…” 

Jacob’s hands moved to hers, clasping them together tightly before bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss upon them to reassure her. “I will get the money.” 

“How?” 

“I will find a way to save our baby. Do you truly put so little faith in me?” Jacob asked, a bit offended by her decision to be this way.  
“Your heart is always in the right place, Jacob,” she reminded her husband, hands moving from his touch before falling into place upon her sides. “However, your mind isn’t always kept up to speed in terms of logic, and that is what worries me so.” 

“When you fight for someone you love, logic is hardly the best choice depending the situation,” Jacob commented as though to lecture some pupil beneath him. 

She knew it was impossible. Jacob was stubborn, and as Elizabeth cradled her elbows and avoided his gaze, she found the strength to look him in the eye once more with a stern expression of her own. “Shall we go to bed?” she asked, her words a bit cold to the idea and offer. “I feel it’s been a long day for us both, and I do not wish for this evening to turn to mere ash in one’s mouth…” 

Jacob sighed; he didn’t mean to come across as so aggressive, but he was worried for his child. The thought of losing that precious girl made him beg to God not to take her. “Perhaps so,” he said simply, pushing away from her to prepare for such an idea himself.

 

\--

 

Elizabeth hardly had clothing that could suffice for a prostitute who worked alone. All of her clothes were proper, and she wondered what the best course of action would be in terms of learning what to do. Could she actually ask one? Women fought for clients on the streets, and if she dared ask for advice, the poor woman couldn’t help but worry how that would end up for her. 

There was one thing she could easily notice when walking the streets and taking a looking to them—they were constantly raising their dresses up to show a part of their skin upon their legs that was normally forbidden to do as it was seen as scandalous. _Perhaps that is what gets them customers_ , she thought to herself as the former Assassin filled her basket with the food items she could afford. 

Honestly, she couldn’t afford much: a loaf of bread, and a few mushrooms with rice only to last the day. No milk this time…she couldn’t even afford milk, and how was that going to go well with poor Ella so ill? “I could try to breastfeed her,” Elizabeth murmured to herself, knowing the girl was too old for that now, but she was still lactating after having her son, Ethan, a year ago. The thought was humiliating, but what else could she possibly do beyond resort to becoming a thief? 

As she had gotten home, she was greeted by Davis and the other children—all of the small, needy hands grabbing at her blue gown to try and get a hug from her or talk about something they found exciting that they did when she was gone. Closing the book he was reading and moving the old, black cat he had found outside their home when he was five (named Rookie given his excitement to one day join the Rooks), the young boy hurried to help his mother by taking her basket and moving it to the kitchen at least. 

Davis could feel how light it was, and it was in that moment he frowned a bit with worry. “Did everything go alright, mum?” 

Elizabeth did her best to pretend she knew not what he meant and pressed a smile best she could. “As well as it could be. What of here?” Moving down to at least scoop up Ethan and take him from Amelia, she cradled the babe close to her breast with a loving kiss to his forehead. 

“Ella is resting finally,” the teen boy answered, placing the basket where it could go on the kitchen table, checking to at least be sure there was nothing that needed to go in the ice chest. Upon seeing the lousy bit of food, it was there he sighed, hating that things were possibly getting so dire that even his own father wouldn’t talk to him about it. 

Why? He was old enough to find a job. He could take to the factories, no matter how brutal, or the mines. If it meant helping his family, he would do anything. 

Her blue eyes scanned the scene and merely noticed papers with a few bits of coloring utensils scattered on the floor. The mess bothered her little. If her children were enjoying themselves and nobody else was getting sick, then she would count her blessings. Moving to the kitchen so her voice wouldn’t carry too far, she whispered to her son. “Can you take that bit of bread in there and break it evenly for the children for now? Small pieces, Davis—.” 

“Mum,” he groaned in a scolding tone. Davis wasn’t angry he had to feed his siblings but angry his mother wasn’t telling him everything she should be. “What is going on?” 

“Not now, please,” she begged, her heart beating rapidly at the idea Davis was catching onto the thought they were low on money. The last thing she wanted was her son to be under the orders of some abusive factory boss, or to catch news some machine parts had killed him…breaking his bones. “Do as I asked without fuss now, Davis.” 

Sucking in his lower lip and seeming to pout a bit angrily at that response that he was still being treated like a child, he released it with a heavy sigh and gentle roll of his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Taking Ethan out of the room and heading down to Jacob’s old study, Elizabeth took care in opening the door as quietly as she could to notice Ella was indeed sleeping, finally. However, she had to get the girl to eat something and the breastfeeding plan was all she had in terms of how to sooth her daughter’s throat beyond the water she could get. Making sure the door was shut all the way, she drifted across the boards and to the cot Jacob used to sleep in time and time again when he was up reading about one of his targets or a letter from his sister, Evie. 

Her hand upon the child’s cheek, she flinched again at how warm she felt. Constantly hot and now, it appeared she was sweating. “Ella, it is time to wake up for a bit, sweetheart,” she insisted, but her cold touch alone awoke her slowly from her slumber without the aid of her mother’s words. 

Ella breathed her mother’s title, but it was so gasping that it was hard to even hear for the moment. The sight broke her heart, and knowing her daughter would be too tired to fight her over it, she loosened her clothing and urged her upon her breast. Ella had only stopped breastfeeding upon her third year, so the thought to continue didn’t bother the child or confuse her, and Ella acted upon the gesture without hesitation. 

Jacob had done what he could for the day—selling old trinkets and things that he no longer needed and weapons that he had found on his adventures about London and India, when asked to go there. The ones from India sold the easiest and at a better price, but he knew the coin would only last so long given how many people they had to feed. 

“Maybe this might help,” he prayed to himself as he hurried home and through the front door with a passing by hug and kiss to his children before spying that Elizabeth wasn’t in the room with them. “Where is your mum?” Jacob asked, turning to Davis, who pointed mutely down the hallway. He didn’t need to be told more than that, and after insisting the children be off and play, he hastily made it to where Ella was resting. 

At the sound of the door opening, Elizabeth jerked her head in the direction of the person entering. If it were any of the children, she would tell them to be gone for a bit, but seeing it was Jacob made her tense. “You’re back early. Where did you head off to?” she asked, trying to take his eyes and mind off of what he was seeing. 

“Why are you breastfeeding her?” Jacob asked, his eyes squinted in disbelief at the sight. “I thought you stopped that nearly a year ago?” 

Lowering her head in shame, she sighed through her nostrils. “I didn’t have the shilling needed for milk, and I know Ella really needs it…” 

“You could catch sick yourself with her nursing on you!” Jacob scolded lightly, not wishing to raise his voice and frighten his children. 

“I will be fine,” said Elizabeth sternly, cradling her children close as she turned to her husband to try and negate the fight somehow. “Where did you go this morning? I’ve noticed your study is a bit lighter…” She frowned at the idea of what he had to do as most of those weapons meant a lot to him. “Did you sell some things?” 

“I did.” Jacob dug into his pocket and pulled out a satchel of money that weighed heavily in Elizabeth’s hand when passed over. 

She frowned at the feel of it. “It’ll be enough to put food back into the children’s mouths and our own, but not enough to choose between that or aiding Ella’s sickness…” 

“How much did that man say it would cost then for the bloodletting or the tonic?” Jacob demanded to know, not wishing to think his attempt to get the money was all for not. 

Elizabeth flinched, sucking in her lower lip at the thought. “It would be… one-hundred pounds for the tonic,” she whispered, as she had never seen that much money in her life, really. “For the bloodletting, it would be about close to that only a few pounds cheaper.” 

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, hands moving to his face as he knew he hadn’t collected nearly that much. 

“Don’t worry so much of it, I’ll…I’ll find myself a job again at the factories, perhaps,” Elizabeth insisted, though truly, she was thinking of the prostitution idea from prior. 

“We would need someone to watch the children while we’re out. As much as I trust Davis, he’ll need extra hands to support him through this,” sighed Jacob, as he knew trying to keep his wife home with the little ones was impossible at this point—not unless he wanted his daughter to die. 

“Our neighbor will help.” A faint smile flickered upon the corners of her mouth at the thought; especially, since Jacob wouldn’t quarrel with her over this one. “I can ask her to aid the children and be mindful of Ella’s sickness.” All the same, Elizabeth found some reprieve in the money earned. “Can you take that packet and spend it on some food for us? I would, but I need to be here, I feel.” 

“I’ll spend it wisely,” Jacob answered, taking it back and pocketing it once more. “I’ll try to save up for what we need…” 

Elizabeth could only breathe a ‘thank you’, closing her eyes as Jacob moved closer to kiss upon her forehead to show it would be okay.

 

\--

 

But she found herself out in the streets in no time. What Elizabeth promised was merely a factory job ended up being her job on the streets as a prostitute. While the clients were dreadful, the women could be vicious themselves if they saw she was in their part of the streets—pushing at her and trying to rip her gown or claw at her face to make men find her less appealing. 

Elizabeth took note of their behaviors, the ones from the brothels, and made sure never to venture to certain areas. This left her with the less savory people and clients about dark alleyways where she knew it would be all too easy for someone to try and kill her. She counted her blessings at being a former Assassin, however, and knowing some tricks to get herself out of harm’s way. 

The only problem with this was most of her clients ended up becoming Blighters…men who knew who she was and took glee in the thought of soiling Jacob’s precious wife. They threatened her, toyed with her skin with their knives and swords and even the burning barrel of a gun left its mark near the side of her head where her hairline was. 

But she used what makeup she could to hide the mark and her hair as well, swearing to Jacob that all was ‘well at the factory job’. “They won’t kill me,” she thought to herself, her fingers twirling about her hair as she looked at her weary and beaten down reflection in the mirror. “They like me as their toy…their ‘revenge’ on Jacob…” 

Her body faltered, tears threatening to blur her vision as she hugged herself and the monster she felt she had become. She wished she could keep her body for Jacob and Jacob alone, but her daughter needed her, and this is where she had to think of someone else’s wants and needs beyond her own. 

Even if the Blighters were her worst customers, they at least paid as promised. Elizabeth got to the point where she upper their payment if they so desired to beat upon her just as a chance to strike at Jacob’s prize. If they would pay her what she needed, she would take whatever they so gave her. 

But all didn’t seem to go well upon one rainy evening. Her tasseled shawl wrapped tightly about her freezing body and doing her best to take comfort from the rain, Elizabeth heard a small group of them approaching from the darkened alleyway. Her body was numb to them and their advances always. If they wanted to force themselves upon her, she didn’t care. Again, she would take any form of abuse just to save her daughter. 

“Out late again in this weather, little ‘Rook’,” the brute of a Blighter taunted, a cigar the only true light in that night beyond the measly bit the moon cast from overhead. “Shouldn’t you be flying home to your master?” 

“He is no master of mine,” Elizabeth answered sternly in the cold of the rain, her fingers curling about the shawl, “but he is the only man of which my heart belongs to.” 

“Not anymore,” the Blighter scoffed as the others laughed wickedly as well. 

As the man approached her, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at his accusation. “You confuse my body with my heart, sir,” she began boldly, “but they are indeed two different things. You can have my body…but none of you monsters will have my heart.” 

It was there the Blighter reacted and used his cigar, which he plucked from his lips, to burn it upon a part of her flesh he could touch and see there on her chest. Hearing the satisfying scream that escaped Elizabeth’s mouth and watching her fall to her knees in near mercy at the attack, the man grabbed at her face to get the woman to gaze upon him. 

Regardless of the situation she was in, Elizabeth frowned and her eyes glowed in fury. She would not yield to the enemy and refused to be his servant as he so wanted of her. Even at the sound of his belts rustling, she didn’t falter. 

“We’ll have you singing a different tune, my bird,” the nameless Blighter insisted, his hold on her tightening as he would give anything to unleash his anger and frustration in Jacob’s antics on his beloved wife. 

But the sound of a gun firing rung out in the air—a bullet, taking down one of the men in the back before Jacob came souring from the rooftops to assassinate the other two. Turning then, Elizabeth could see who it was and she sighed in heartbreak at how furious her husband appeared at the sight before him. He didn’t even allow the man about to force himself on his wife speak, as it was there he slashed downward with his cane-sword, nearly splitting the man in two. 

The rain the only sound for a time minus the heavy breathing on both their parts, Jacob’s boot found its way against the corpse of the Blighter that had threatened to rape his lover. Eyes were wide with rage, teeth bared like some provoked beast, Jacob kicked him again and again as though his anger weren’t completely from him. 

“Jacob, stop!” Elizabeth insisted, taking to her feet and grabbing at his arm to pull him back. “It’s over!” 

“You’ve been lying to me,” Jacob hissed through his teeth, hazel eyes dark and almost unforgiving in the act. “You have been doing something as dangerous as this—and with Blighters no less!” 

His last few words rung out furiously about the buildings, making her cringe and place her hand upon his cheek to try and steady his anger. “I had to.” Her lips quivered in a mixture of cold and sadness. “Ella needed that money!” 

“I wanted to keep you safe, always!” Jacob reminded his wife, grabbing at her upper arms to steady her mind, but in that moment, he noticed the cigar burn on her chest and released his hold. “Bloody hell, what did he do!” Groping in his trench coat for his handkerchief, he found it and began to dab the spot mindfully. 

Elizabeth flinched from the tenderness that raked through her at the gentle motion. “Cigar burn,” she responded simply, taking Jacob’s wrist to try and direct him better and make him be far more gentle. 

“You are coming home with me this instant,” the Master Assassin insisted, his eyes refusing to meet hers as he was still cross she would do this to herself and risk the thought of such injuries or worse. 

“You…You are furious,” Elizabeth spoke out of fact, her fingers gripping upon his leather attire with a frown of sorrow. 

“I want you alive, safe, and healthy—and…dammit all…I want your body to be for me and me alone as well as your heart!” Jacob reminded her, grabbing at her cheeks after he was done doctoring her. 

She shook her head with a quick response, “My heart **_IS_** always yours, Jacob!” Hands bunched up upon his chest, she lightly beat him there to try and knock sense into him. “You need not question that…my body, I needed to sell to save our child! I do not wish to lose her!” It was there she fell apart. Riddled with shame and worry of disappointing her husband, she rested her cheek against his chest while sobbing uncontrollably. 

Closing his eyes at her confession, Jacob opened his trench coat a bit more to offer her further shelter from the cold and rain. “Let’s not talk of this now, Lizzie,” he insisted against her wet hair before placing a kiss there. “Let’s get you home for now before you too get ill.” 

Sniffling back her sadness, she rested on Jacob for a means of support on the way back home. Perhaps she could talk him into it somehow…perhaps she could continue selling her body to get what money she needed for Ella to feel better again.


End file.
